Midnight in the Gardens of Good and Evil
by knightshade
Summary: Drusilla thinks back to the night she was turned.


Title: Midnight in the Gardens of Good and Evil  
Author: knightshade

Disclaimer: Joss is the genius behind the Buffy characters. I'm just a hack. And I couldn't resist stealing the title, with a very minor change from the book by John Berendt. It was just too shiny for me to resist. But no harm meant.

Author's Notes. Thanks to jebbypal, kurukami, moonbeam, and Tomy for the discussion on turning in Buffydom. And thanks to Tomy for beta reading and help with other canon bits. This was written for the multifandom1000 garden challenge.

_**Midnight in the Gardens of Good and Evil**_

Drusilla loved the garden. It was so pretty-pretty with its stone wall, trickling fountain, and cavernous shadows. She twirled on the brick patio that reminded her of the cobblestone London streets in the old days. It had just rained so the leaves were swollen and erect -- they got her dress all wet when the skirts brushed against them. She tipped her head back and let the moon drench her face, giving her cheeks a warm tingle – it was such a tease, only a reflection of the sun's powerful light. The stars in the moon's harem were all bright and sparkly tonight. Dru stopped spinning and grinned when the stars didn't. When they finally stopped dancing, she could see that it was very nearly midnight. The witching hour. That made her ever so happy. It reminded her of another midnight in another garden. With Angel.

"Isn't it lovely tonight, Spike?" she asked her seated companion.

"Whatever, pet."

He was so sour. Not the roguish Spike she'd pranced across Europe with. Dru held out the dollie she'd tucked under her arm. She resumed her dancing, Miss Edith held out in front of her – her partner for the night. "Somebody's Mr. Grumpy," she sing-songed.

As she twirled past, she saw that Spike had set his jaw. He wasn't going to play tonight. Pity. Dru wanted to play.

She rolled her head back and closed her eyes, enjoying the delicious delirium of spinning. The breeze tonight was strong. It lifted the ends of her hair as she drank it in deeply. It was undead, like them. Not alive, but powerful nonetheless. Sneaky. Secretive. Seductive. It carried with it the faintest hint of sea salt and the overpowering perfume of flowers.

Dru opened her eyes again to glower at the naughty moonflowers with their wicked scent that hinted at dirty things. Her eyes didn't forget their glower, but her lips turned up in a smile. Naughty, naughty moonflowers.

She wasn't supposed to pick flowers. Not in the other garden. She set Miss Edith down on the stone bench and floated to the nearest bush. This was their Eden and she was Eve – she would pick whatever she wanted. Dru caressed a pretty white flower, her red fingernails like blood on its petals. With the instinctual suddenness of a predator, she snapped the flower off its stem.

Gliding over to Spike in his wheelchair, Drusilla slid her arms over his shoulders, presenting him with the forbidden fruit.

"What do I want with a flower, Dru?"

Sulky, sullen, Spike. She shared a significant look with Miss Edith. Spike didn't like flowers.

But Angel did. He'd picked them for her the night her lord had come calling.

_She tried to be good, to be pure and pious. The priest said she had to ignore the voices, that they weren't the angels of heaven. But they said otherwise and they wouldn't be turned away. She'd run from the convent, but he'd followed. Toying with her, he was. Nipping at her heels but not yet pouncing. She ran but had nowhere to go, and the faces of all the dead were haunting her already. She was tired, but afraid to sleep. He was coming, always coming. And she was lost -- a kitty tied in a bag with a brick and tossed into the river. It was only a matter of time. So she went back to the convent's garden at midnight. Peace. Beauty. Serenity. The garden had been a sanctuary for her while she'd been preparing to take her vows. _

_But he was already there, waiting for her, the dark angel. She was supposed to be afraid, but it wasn't fear she was feeling. Or fear was only a small part of it. She was torn between wanting to stay and the voices that were urging her to flee. Rabbit in a snare, she was. _

"_Drusilla. Ya've come to me," he said, in that dizzying brogue, rising from his seat on the bench. He held in his hand a bouquet of flowers. They must have come from somewhere else. The convent garden was sparse, tamed. Its blooms were humble, small -- the parents of peas, cherries, and apples. The large flowers in his hand were white with deep throats and salaciously turned petals._

_Drusilla stared past the hem of her long, plain dress, down at the tips of her shoes. She'd taken her vows today. She'd sworn to be good, to be a servant of God, but she couldn't run anymore. Wherever she went, he'd find her. He broke the pretties and left a trail of rancidness. She was too worn down and alone to keep trying. If she stopped fleeing, perhaps he would stop giving chase. The rabbit froze._

_He came closer to her, moving with the preternatural grace of the sleek gray cat that used to walk along the top of the garden wall._

"_So then, ya've accepted yer fate, have ya?"_

_Drusilla nodded mutely. She knew she couldn't go on fighting the voices of the angels. They were so insistent._

"_It's just as well. Yer too pretty a lass for the nunnery."_

_She heard herself whimper as he dropped the flowers and grabbed her upper arms in a crushing grip. "Look up, darlin'. I'm going to give ya a gift."_

_Drusilla lifted her eyes in time to see his face change into something terrible. He snarled and she was mesmerized by the long, horrible fangs. Piercing daggers. Surely this was the work of Lucifer himself. She struggled against his grip, but it was too late. Why hadn't she run? _

_The demon ripped off her veil and pulled her head back by her long hair. Drusilla tried to pull away, but it was no use. He held her fast. The demon kissed her neck and trailed his teeth along her skin. Drusilla froze as two white hot points of pain seared into her neck and then streamed down her body. Ripped petals of skin. Her ears started to buzz and she could feel the creature's teeth as he moved them, tearing deeper holes, biting further into her wounded flesh. _

_Drusilla heard something like a whimper, but it mixed with the horrifying sound of the creature lapping at her blood, her life-force. The streamers of pain were spreading throughout her body – snakes slithering through her. She could feel the enormous _pull _that competed with her heart. The blood was flowing up to her neck in long, painful rivers. The beast was sucking everything out of her, but at the same time filling her with strange sensations and thoughts that were not her own. Her mind raced with horrible images, of others dying, of doing sinful things. She tried to push the thoughts away. She had to think only pure thoughts. How could she meet her maker thinking such awful things? But she couldn't stop them. The heat from the punctures in her neck was spreading out to her whole body, filling every muscle. She felt weak and tried to hold herself rigid to keep from falling. But she was trying to hold onto something that was slipping away. Drusilla stared past the head that was pressed against her neck at the stars above them and willed them to take her to heaven. _

_The buzz in her ears had grown so that she no longer heard the disgusting noises the beast made. She tried to keep her muscles tense, to fight the fading sensation, but it was growing, filling her. She clutched at the demon holding her, wanting to do him harm, but the thought sailed away into a distant sea. She fought, but there was no fighting. The darkness was coming, and she had been wicked._

_There was a tingling that pervaded her flesh. It rippled through her like the fluttering of sheets on a line. The tingling spread to all of her parts, even the private ones. She tried to hold back the sensation. Part of her knew this was wrong, sinful. But that part was being washed away. _Forgive me father, for I have sinned_. She was trying to hold onto something, but she didn't know what. Then a shudder went through her and all her muscles seemed to give out at once. She was sure that the stars were about to turn black as night._

_Then cold, alabaster skin was pressed against her mouth. In an instant something thick and salty was flowing into her mouth. At first she tried to fight it, to push away, repulsed. But the sap-like fluid filled her – first her mouth, covering her teeth and tongue. Then she could feel it quickening in the back of her throat. Warm and throbbing and alive. It seeped deeper inside her, finding its way throughout her body, waking her weak muscles, and infusing them with a strength she'd never known. She was filled with _wanting._ It was a call she had to heed, a sudden desire so forceful that it couldn't be denied. She found herself drinking greedily, eagerly sucking in the life-blood as the last of the protests in her mind were overtaken and beaten by the roar of the raw power in her veins._

_Then the elixir was gone and powerful hands prevented her from seeking it further. Drusilla looked up at her angel, still ravenous with wanting. But the blood was working its way through her body, burning her up. Consuming her. Her head lolled languidly, drunk on the power coursing through her body. The stars above her head had never looked so bright. _

_Drusilla stared at them until she lost focus and the stars dissolved into darkness._

But Drusilla kept these thoughts to herself. Spike didn't like to hear her talk about the old garden and his grandpappa. He got all jealous and grumpy. She set the flower in his lap and circled away. He wouldn't ruin her fun, even though she caught him tossing the flower to the dirt before wheeling himself back inside.

Drusilla picked up Miss Edith and began to dance again, humming along with a tune that only the two of them could hear. No matter about Spike, she thought. Angel would be back before dawn. Angel liked flowers.

And Angel liked to play.

-------------------  
-knightshade  
July 4, 2005


End file.
